


Restraint

by Resoan



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Jaws of Hakkon, Jaws of Hakkon Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4771370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resoan/pseuds/Resoan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the defeat of Hakkon Wintersbreath, the Inquisition is invited to celebrate the victory with the Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold. Past Solavellan, slight angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Restraint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [openthepocketwatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/openthepocketwatch/gifts).



> This was originally written on tumblr for Openthepocketwatch.

The Frostback Basin was an extraordinary place Velahari was discovering - now that the Jaws of Hakkon and their god had been soundly defeated. The landscape was littered with gurgets and bogfishers, and some of the Inquisition scouts had even reported a giant in a grotto a little ways from the main camp, but even amidst all the danger, Velahari couldn’t help but find the area charming and captivating: as sad as Ameridan and Telana’s deaths had been, at least they’d gone in a beautiful place.

When they’d first returned to the main camp after defeating the dragon, Varric hadn’t been able to keep quiet - had regaled everyone who listened with stories of how they’d bested the Avvar in the trial of Hakkon, of how the Inquisitor herself had even come upon a legend-mark from the Avvar, and eventually, about Inquisitor Ameridan. 

Most laughed off the notion that the man had been both an elf and a mage, but as their eyes inevitably turned towards her, their laughter seemed to taper off rather abruptly.

“You do not seem pleased, Inquisitor. We discovered your predecessor and allowed him to rest peaceably for the first time in centuries. We even defeated an Avvar god bound in mortal form to a high dragon. Most could only hope and aspire to such feats.” 

Solas caught her off-guard at the edge of the camp’s entrance, the Inquisitor’s gaze turned westward where the sun currently set brightly against the horizon. Asking him to join them had been bittersweet, if Velahari had to put a word to it; this was likely the last foray they would make into the wilds before confronting Corypheus, and Solas had made their separation perfectly clear after the Arbor Wilds. She turned her gaze momentarily over her shoulder before looking away, arms crossing under her chest.

“I’m simply…absorbing the moment, I suppose,” she murmured with a frown. “I predict we’ll have precious few of them now - Corypheus is out there, and he will not remain idle for long.” Solas hummed his agreement, and for a while there was silence - silence enough that Velahari believed Solas had turned and left her to her own devices.

As such, she spun without care for bumping into another, and had to inhale sharply when his face swam into view, concerned and amicable, if a little sad. Just as her lips parted to apologize and slip past him, however, Scout Harding seemed to appear from the shadows.

“Inquisitor! We just received word from the Avvar at Stone-Bear Hold. It seems they wish to celebrate the victory over the Jaws of Hakkon, and have invited the Inquisition to join them.” 

“Well, then I guess we’d better not disappoint them,” Velahari remarked, lips twisting into a sly grin as some of the men cheered around the camp - likely more for the libations and feast than interacting with the strange Avvar mountain-men. 

* * *

Only a select few accompanied Velahari and her companions to Stone-Bear Hold, those among them Scout Harding and Professor Kenric, though the Thane introduced him as Inquisitor First-Thaw’s skald with a rather rakish grin on her lips. 

As Velahari might have predicted, the festivities were raucous and loud. Blackwall seemed to settle among the Avvar warriors as though he’d been brought up one himself, Varric told his tales to the Hold’s skalds and learned a few for his own arsenal, and even Solas had taken to speaking more in-depth with the Augur and his newly-returned apprentice, Sigrid Gulsdotten - likely on the nature of the Avvar gods and the emotions each spirit embodied for the Avvar to emulate in a never-ending cycle.

Thane Sun-Hair ensured Velahari’s goblet of wine never neared emptiness, and Velahari was glad to relay what had happened in the stronghold behind the wall of ice, and the battle itself with Hakkon Wintersbreath. The Thane appeared approving when Velahari explained what had become of the former Inquisitor;  _to subdue the god of war for eight hundred years - not many could boast of such a thing. And to have his successor finish the job for him… Your Inquisitor must be proud, I think._

Velahari had tried her best not to dwell on Ameridan and what became of him; perhaps she was simply afraid her life would turn out like his: a constant burden of responsibility that would require her entire life to fulfill, and yet, would never  _be fulfilled_. It wasn’t so much that she disliked helping others or being Inquisitor, but when she’d been younger, she’d envisioned such a different life for herself. Being Keeper, while not without its own unique brand of responsibilities, would have been vastly different.

Was it selfish to yearn for something she had never had, and never would? To want to cast away her burdens for any amount of time when the world and its slowly-recovering populace needed her more than ever?

Blackwall’s boisterous laughter startled her from her thoughts, and when she glanced up in his direction, it was almost difficult to recognize him now - red-cheeked and smiling broadly, a tankard clutched in one hand while the other banged on the table in reaction to something one of the Avvar had said just moments earlier.

Some of the more curious Avvar had finally spotted Bianca, and Velahari poorly attempted to hold in her smile as Varric tried to explain the crossbow’s origin with a lie - one that, apparently, was seen through readily, and thus required a replacement. Each one grew in outlandish believability, though judging from the laughter Varric earned for his trouble, none of those listening seemed to care.

Her gaze inevitably followed the line of people to where Solas had earlier been, though he was not at the Augur’s side as before; in fact, when she scanned the hall further, she did not see him at all. “If you’ll excuse me, Thane Sun-Hair. It seems one of my companions has wandered off, and I’d rather not find his broken body on the shoreline from stumbling around drunk outside.” It was grim laughter that answered her, and Velahari quietly excused herself before slipping around those assembled towards the closest door.

A few Avvar stood outside, murmuring silently to one another, though Velahari didn’t linger long enough for them to acknowledge her. She made a quick round of the feasting hall with little success, though just as she began to sigh, she noticed his silhouette against the night sky; he stood as still as a statue, feet planted firmly on the boulders overlooking the waters below, and for a moment, Velahari considered returning to the feast. She knew he was safe, and that had been why she’d come out in the first place; perhaps it was the drink, but she couldn’t leave well enough alone.

“Inquisitor.” She saw his hands tighten only just where they clutched together at the small of his back, but otherwise, he was calm and still: as unaffected as she’d ever seen him save for the one, small tic he likely hadn’t even noticed.

That he knew it was she who approached did not surprise her. Velahari couldn’t count the number of times Sera had attempted to play a prank on Solas, only for it to blow up in her face - sometimes, even literally. The memory of Sera grumbling as she headed for her nook in the tavern had Velahari smiling distantly, though it was an expression quickly extinguished as she stepped closer.

“I wanted to make sure you weren’t-”

“I am well, Inquisitor. You need not concern yourself over me.” 

Perhaps he hadn’t meant it in as cruel a way as the words echoed in Velahari’s ears, but she frowned at his back nonetheless, uncertain and angry and uncomfortably warm from the Avvar spirits. An inexplicable rush of feelings, tangled from their time at Crestwood, rushed to the surface, likely let loose by too much drink, and when the urge came to her, she did not fight it.

She crept closer, even as Solas seemed to stiffen in preparation, though most of the tension seemed to drain from his shoulder-blades when her forehead rested against them gently, her breathing uneven as she tried to catch hold of it.

“I know I don’t  _need_  to, but I do.” She frowned then, green eyes slipping closed just as her arms slid around his waist and her fingertips entwined just above his navel. It gave her heart to hear a surprised gasp settle from his lips, though he did little else: merely unlocked his hands and let them fall to his sides. 

Velahari lost track of how long they remained in such a position, but Solas never once moved away, nor attempted to dislodge Velahari’s arms from around him. Only once the doors of the feasting hall all seemed to open simultaneously and people began to pour out did Velahari release her hold on him, eventually turning and allowing him the solitude which he so seemed to crave.

She did not notice the slight tremor in his hands, nor the grit jaw or stilted breathing, and by the time Varric approached him to ask what was the matter now, Solas had re-composed himself. He answered simply, said the drink had been more potent than he’d first assumed, though his gaze had been far from the dwarf’s. Varric only pretended not to notice how Solas’ gaze lingered on the Inquisitor mournfully as she approached Thane Sun-Hair, and gave thanks for the gracious invitation, and hope for a continued alliance should either party be in need.

It occurred to Varric much later, after the Inquisition had bid their Avvar allies farewell and were making their way to one of their camps, that Solas had not meant the drink when referring to its potent effect on him. Even as they lumbered gradually down the steep, mountain path, the apostate’s gaze was never far from Velahari, and Varric, if no one else, could see the emotion there - had been covering up and lying about his own for Bianca for years enough now to recognize when another did something similar. 

That wasn’t a mess Varric was about to step in, though, even if it was painfully easy to watch their missed exchanges once they made it back to camp and settled into bedrolls and tents for the evening.


End file.
